He Lives in You
by Milady Oakenshield
Summary: After six years, Tauriel returns to the Lonely Mountain and brings with her the daughter Kili unknowingly gave his life to protect; reactions may or may not be mixed about a child no one knew existed, and some secrets may be revealed; AU!post-BOTFA; Tauriel Fix-It.
1. Bittersweet Memories

_This idea came to me on the plane ride home (I'd been in Texas and Florida) but I was so tired that I didn't get the chance to type it out, and you know how much of a pain in the ass doing anything on a plane can be. _

**He Lives in You  
><strong>Ch.1 - Bittersweet Memories  
>written by milady oakenshield<p>

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><p><strong>W<strong>hen she reaches forwards, and her delicate fingers brush over the dwarven rune carvings, she does so with the fascination of any child, and the twinkle in her eyes as she tries to form the words with her mouth; it is, perhaps, the closest she will ever be to touching him; a deep sorrow has rooted in her mother's heart that has only felt a bit lighter by the birth of this little girl. Her hazel eyes sparkle with starlight, and her auburn hair perfectly frames her angle face speckled with her mother's freckles. She traces the runes, and she tries to sound out each syllable, and even though she cannot quite get it perfect, she does try. When she tries, and confusion gives way to frustration, she'll look over her shoulder at her mother, her brows will knit together, and then her mother will finish the pronunciation for her.

Tauriel had been taught some Khuzdul and how to read dwarvish runes. Not by any dwarf of Erebor, but by a certain brunt archer when he was a prisoner in Mirkwood's dungeon. They'd grown quite fond of each other over time and she suspects that is where she'd fallen in love with the foolish dwarf. She did not know it then but he would come to change her in way more ways than one. He told her of his promise to his mother, told her of a fire moon, and she of _Mereth-en-Gilith_ – the Feast of Starlight. Twas that night when she stole him away from his cell. They climbed up to the tops of the trees to see the stars and it was under these stars when Kili stole himself a kiss that night.

She knew not that she was with child when she returned to the Woodland Realm after the battle of the five armies (a rather festively coined name) – Thranduil had lifted her banishment, though he did not return to her her position as Captain; he sought to care for her in her grief. Her subsequent discovery of her pregnancy had been a blessing, even if she had not seen that at the time; her heart far too full of anguish to contemplate the _laes (baby; Sindarin)_ in her belly. She did not want to hold her child when it was born – the healer said the laes was a girl but Tauriel heard her not. It was on the third day, when the nameless child's wailing became too much for the elf king to bear, that he cradled her in his own arms, the way he'd do with Legolas. But he was not a mother, and the child cried for Tauriel. It was the first time the reluctant elleth ever held her daughter. As the laes suckled from her breast, the red-head elleth cried; tears of joy, tears of sorrow. And finally, she had a name.

Itaril was three when she first learned of Kili, but her mother's depiction was vague; she took care in how she explained the dwarf prince to her daughter; it took her that long to finally be able to speak of Kili without tears coming to her eyes. She was five when she happened upon the weapons room, and Tauriel's heart was briefly broken in twine when her Itaril came running at her with _his_ bow. She could have gotten angry at the guard for not keeping a better lock on the room but in the end, she only blamed herself for not keeping a better leash on her daughter. She could not ever be angry with Itaril, for the girl was such a curious creature, and reckless, like her father before her. Perhaps stumbling upon the bow was a way for father and daughter to be connected. The young edhel started training with the weapon and of course her first attempts were rather clumsy, but she was like her mother and learned quickly; Tauriel beamed with pride when Itaril managed the hang of it; though Thranduil showed his displeasure at having to reupholster his favorite chair.

Twas over supper one summer's night when Tauriel said how she longed to make the trek to Erebor and pay her respect to Kili's tomb, and added that she wished to bring Itaril with her. Thranduil advised against it; he did not believe the girl would do well to know her ada was dead; if only to spare the elleth's heart against the sorrow. But Itaril practically jumped at the idea of meeting her ada. Finally. And Tauriel hid the fact it saddened her at her daughter's elation for she knew, in her heart, that Itaril's fragile heart would shatter to pieces once she learned the truth. The day they packed for the journey, she begged and pleaded with her naneth to allow her to bring the bow with her. And who was Tauriel to deny her daughter something so treasured?

They set out from their home on horseback. It was her daughter's first time away from home. When the young _edhel (elf; Sindarin) _asked her mother where they were going, she just pulled her _pîn êl (little star; Sindarin) _close and said to her they were going to see _ada (dad/daddy; Sindarin)_. And for just that moment, her mother's sorrowfulness was gone at her daughter's elation. The young edhel had only heard stories of her ada and when asked where he was, her mother would just smile sadly and say he was away. She asked if ada could ever come be with them; her mother just shook her head; the little edhel idolized her ada, and she would never know him; she knew not the true reason her ada couldn't be with her.

Tauriel was led to the Tombs and allowed entrance. The elleth gathered her daughter into her arms – Itaril was a small child, smaller than a normal five-year-old edhel would be; _eledhrims_ _(elves; Sindarin)_ develop physically slower than that of Men - but Tauriel concluded it had to be because her daughter was of mixed heritage that stunted her growth. She brought the child to a smaller stone tomb and introduced her to her ada. Itaril just gave her naneth a very confused look that reminded Tauriel almost too much of how Kili would look at her sometimes; it was quite easy to see the dwarf through their daughter's eyes. She just assumed ada was sleeping. She didn't really know.

_**T**here were few things lately that brought the Lady Dis any comfort. Sure she served King Dain well and he repaid her in kind but she was so rarely the dwarrowdam many of the dwarrows remembered her as. There was no mirth to her eyes as there once were. No joy. Only deep sorrow. For her whole family was buried here; her grandparents, her parents, both her brothers, and her young sons who died far too soon in their lifetimes. She would have seen them become princes in their own right, settle in with nice dwarrowdams, maybe have a few children. Oh how she would have liked to spoil some grandkids._

_When she'd find her heart felt heavy, Dis would think of happier times with her boys. She'd imagine them running barefoot through the opened fields after a fresh spring shower. She'd see them climbing trees just to see the hair of the back of Thorin's neck raise on end. And then she'd see the day her dear brother came to her with hopes of reclaiming their homeland. She protested. She hated the thought; that accursed mountain brought them both but grief and sorrow. But what pained her heart was the knowledge Thorin wished to take Fili and Kili with him._

_Dis got angry. She screamed, she wailed, she threw things but in the end, it was her own sons that calmed her. They'd be alright. She made they promise that. She didn't worry so much for Fili as she did for her youngest. He was so fool hearted and reckless. Somehow she felt safer knowing that Thorin would be keeping watch over them, and Dwalin too. If only she hadn't relented. Her sons would be with her now. Dis found solace in Dwalin as the pair could bond more closely over their shared grief. She took him as her lover, but they did not marry; she had given her heart to her One, and only he would have it._

_Whilst out on a stroll that afternoon, she happened upon the Tombs and thought to pay her family a visit. Imagine her surprise to hear muffled voices from within. This was certainly not normal, as the only ones inside that foul play were of the dead, and the dead do not speak. _

**I**taril repeated what the runes said again and each time she spake them, the words became more clear. Tauriel could not help but to smile at her _pîn êl. _But then the young edhel grew quiet, and Tauriel became concerned. "Ada isn't sleeping," she asked, suddenly, and her bottom lip started to quiver, "is he, naneth?" When she started seeing small tears rolling down her daughter's cheeks, the elleth's heart started breaking all over again.

She sighed heavily and said, "No, he is not,_ pîn êl_. Your father was taken from this life before you were born." It pained her to see the child hang her head like that. The elleth pressed a small kiss to Itaril's forehead and combed her fingers through the girl's brunette locks. Her daughter threw her arms around her and buried her small face in the crook of Tauriel's neck. Her cries for her ada were muffled. There was nothing she could do to quell the hurt in her daughter's heart, as much as she'd have like to.

When Itaril lifted her head, she looked upon her naneth's face and asked, "But, can't he come back? Did he not want me?" As a young child, it wouldn't be reasonable for her to understand anything of the adult world.

Tauriel's heart flip-flopped in her chest and she felt her own eyes water. "Of course he wanted you, _nîn mîr (my jewel; Sindarin)_. Your ada would have treasured you so, had he'd only known I was carrying you but I hadn't known then. You would have brought him much joy."

"So why can't he be with me now?"

The elleth sighed; explaining death to a child would be difficult. "Because Mahal has called him home to be with his people who came before him; his grandfather, his uncle, his brother - they needed him too. Unfortunately, he wasn't given a choice. Your ada died saving me. I didn't know it then but he saved you too. So you see, Itaril, your ada _did_ want you."

She'd like to think that by her explaining it to her daughter in such a way, that it would ease some of the deep sorrow rooted in Itaril's small heart. Tauriel brushed tears from her daughter's freckled face and tried to smile some; her heart summersaulted inside her chest at the mere thought of Kili sometimes but at least her own grief had lessened. She feared that her daughter's was just now beginning and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Part of her was angry with Kili. She could easily hate him; he left her, and he left their daughter. Sometimes it was easier to hate him then to think fondly on their memories and love him. But she knew it did not do well for her to hate him because he did naught wrong. Tauriel could blame herself for everything. She probably could have taken Bolg down had she fought harder. Sometimes she couldn't tell who to be mad at.

Tauriel made some kind of noise in her throat that startled the young edhel. Shifting a look over her shoulder, the elleth narrowed her eyes at a shadow that passed over the tombs. The former Captain of Mirkwood instructed her daughter to hide behind one of the tombs and although Itaril propped one of her brows higher than the other, she did not question twice.

The elleth turned round with daggers in each hand. The shadow she saw passing through earlier was now replaced with an aging dwarrowdam; she clutched tight to a single blade in her right hand; her eyes narrowed at the red-head. This was not just any dwarrowdam. This was Lady Dis, daughter of Thrain, sister to Thorin Oakenshield, and Princess of Erebor! Fire burned in her belly as she and this elleth met eye-to-eye, and Tauriel could feel her blood pounding in her cheeks.

When Dis took a step forwards, she didn't dare lower her weapon. "You will leave this place now, she-elf," she ordered, her voice dripping with venomous poison; even in the older stage of her life, she was still a force to be reckoned with. "You have no right here."

"I have the only right," Tauriel responded in kind.

The aging dwarrowdam made this undignified sound in her throat; she found it difficult to believe an elf would be granted permission here; relations between their peoples were thin as is and no dwarf she knew of would have allowed this elleth to be down here, in these Halls, with sons she was still protective over, even in death. "And by what right would that be?" Call her curious but Dis was never the one to beat-around-the-bush, as it were – a trait she shared with her brother.

Tauriel's heart flipped in her chest. "The right of any widow whose husband had fallen in battle," she replied. As she tightened, a concealed braid drooped low over her right shoulder and she heard the dwarrowdam make some kind of noise. Dis recognized the mithril bead braided into the elleth's red hair as one of the courting beads from her line.

Carefully, very carefully, Dis sheathed her dagger in her boot. Walking up to the elleth, she reached for the braid and studied it as it rest in the palm of her hand. She fingered the mithril bead and then somehow started chuckling to herself. "I don't even have to ask which one of my foolish boys married you." She knew her sons well; Fili was always the more level-headed obedient one whereas her Kili was the fool-hearted reckless one; they could not have been more opposite from one another and yet complement each other at the same time.

The elleth sheathed her weapons. "You are Kili's mother then?"

"Aye. Lady Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror, and sister to Thorin Oakenshield. My sons are Fili and Kili, princes of Erebor," she announced in such a regal manner, as benefiting their station.

Tauriel took a knee. "My Lady, I am Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, daughter of Ehrendil and Taleadra, at your service." Her eyes lowered some.

"I know of you, Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, for I have been told things." This brought surprise to the elleth. "I often wondered if I'd ever get the chance to look onto the face of the woman who defied her king to save my son."

Tauriel's eyes watered. "And in kind, he gave his life to save mine. It is a debt I will never be able to repay. I knew not at the time but he had saved another life that day at Ravenhill." The elleth shot a look behind her and beckoned for her daughter to come forth. The young edhel very slowly peaked her head out from behind the tomb she hid behind; the clasp holding her hair back had come undone and now gorgeous curls spiraled down the sides of pale cheeks. The dwarrowdam could feel her heart pounding in her throat as this little girl stepped out in front of Tauriel, with her eyes lifted to her face. "Her name is Itaril. Itaril, this is Lady Dis. She was your father's mother. Can you say hello to her?"

The young edhel took a step or two closer to the dwarrowdam whilst not breaking eye contact. As small as she was, she only came up to Dis's thighs. A look of sadness and joy passed through the princess's eyes before a new feeling washed over her; hope. When she looked down at this little girl, all she could see was her son looking right back at her. Itaril was every bit of Kili, right down to his laughing eyes and rosy dimples. There was that space of silence that had befallen them when no one spoke.

Years of heartache and sorrow could not have prepared her for the weight lifted from her heart when she felt the arms of her granddaughter – her son's little girl – coil her tiny arms round her waist. A warm feeling rush through her veins; she knew in that moment that her son had indeed kept his promise in the most unusual of ways; in the form of this little girl with as much of a spark as she had once seen in Kili's eyes. So when Dis's arms enveloped the child, she was doing so much more than welcoming a grandchild into her life – she was seeing Kili come back to her.

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><p><strong>Side Note<strong>: _I'm not going to lie; I teared up a little whilst writing this. Talk about angst. Somehow I always saw Tauriel returning to Mirkwood under Thranduil's continued protection; only this time because he was cared for her broken heart and didn't want her to fade because of it. And then having this child that would eventually give her the strength to carry on as Legolas had done for Thranduil. _

_The title is borrowed from a sequel to a Disney classic and I thought it would be appropriate for this one-shot. After finishing this, I debated continuing or just leaving it as it so I will leave it open for now until I decided. _

_In Kiliel Ficlets, I wrote a couple chapters that describe Kili and Tauriel having children name Frerin and Freja. So this one-shot is in no relation to that. Frerin and Freja would be a result of Kili living and settling down with Tauriel as his princess while Itaril is a result of Kili dying on Ravenhill and Tauriel returning to Mirkwood._

_Side trivia for you: The name "Itaril" was originally going to be what Tauriel eventually became_

_Itaril means "Daughter of the Stars" which I thought would be very appropriate for their daughter's name_


	2. Comforting Words

_Mae govannen, mellon nin! It looks like He Lives in You has been well received so far. That makes me very glad. To be honest, I was afraid it wouldn't be lol. A stupid thing, I know. There are many ideas I have in store. Not just for this short fic but for other future ones as well. I hope to be able to get them out as soon as possible. I do not have a beta so if anyone is willing, I'd be open to the idea of discussion._

_Oh, and if anyone might be curious as to what Itaril would look like, I base her childhood form off Renesmee from Twilight (and I fucking HATE that series with a passion, but the child did spark some interest as far as influence for Itaril anyway)._

**He Lives in You**  
>Ch. 2 – Comforting Words<br>written by milady oakenshield

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><p><em><strong>F<strong>__rom the time she could lift her head, to the time she could finally start to crawl across the floor and pull herself up, Itaril showed everyone just how mischievous she could be; no one could forget the ear-piercing scream coming from their King that one morning; and no one so much as mentioned his lack of eyebrows for fear of some unholy punishment he'd inflict on them. It took a good few weeks before they grew back. She once found a tiny spider in the wood and decided it would look good in Thranduil's crown; it lacked character, she reasoned – once her mother had stopped laughing at their King's beat red face. _

_It was only a matter of time before Itaril wounded up where the guards train. Tauriel would scold them for it later, surely. They hadn't been paying attention. But who would have thought the five year old would be smart enough to pick a lock? Clearly none of them. One minute the locker was shut tight and the next, one of the guards ran to the new captain complaining the bolt had been tampered with. No one had suspected Tauriel's_hên (child; Sindarin). _Imagine the red-head's shock when her daughter came running at her with Kili's bow! The very one confiscated when he and his companions had been arrested in the Wood._

_She was hesitant to allow Itaril to learn with it but it was with Thranduil's urging that the elleth finally relented and began teaching the young edhel. It was later on that Itaril learned the bow she wielded once belonged to her father. Well, that just made it all the more special to her. She got better with each practice and it was to Tauriel's amusement when her daughter put a hole through one of Thranduil's chairs. Although she didn't much like having to explain to the five year old that swearing was bad. Never before had the Elf King been scolded by a child for his language; Itaril did not hesitate to bop the King on his noggin and tell him that "_swearing is bad_" but then apologized for what she'd done; the Elf King had started resenting his encouragement that Itaril should learn how to shoot._

_But the young edhel got better, and one day she came running home with a small squirrel skewered to her arrow. Tauriel didn't much like it but at least her daughter's arrows weren't finding their way into Thranduil's furniture. _

**T**auriel smiled fondly at the memory; she was standing just inside the training grounds, and her daughter was squaring off with Mister Dwalin; she and Dis stood by, nursing goblets of hot cocoa between their hands. It was quite endearing to see her child being well received by the dwarrows as she had feared they would never have accepted Itaril; a main reason she had never considered making the travel to Erebor before now. Introductions to the Company had been properly made and who's not to love her? She's a sight for sure! They were all quoted with saying how Itaril reminded them much of Kili, and even Dwalin chuckled as Tauriel retold the story of Itaril's first kill being Thranduil's chair cushion.

Dis was curious still about this elleth that had captured her son's heart so, and bore onto him a child, and so she turned to Tauriel to ask her questions; the elleth seemed almost too eager to tell the dwarf princess about everything; leaving out, of course, such explicit details. No need to give the aging dwarrowdam a heart attack. "...and we were nearly discovered by the Prince Legolas himself! And oh what a time we had eluding him." This had the dwarf princess in stitches; she could just picture the look on Legolas's face.

Tauriel went on to explain how she carefully planned their escape route through the winding passageways of the palace, and nearly got themselves lost with the alternatives they were forced to take; of course, she craftily left out the part where the pair was forced to squeeze themselves in such a narrow hiding-hole, barely able to manage the both of them, and they very awkwardly had to adjust to conform to something slightly more comfortable. It did not help either one of them when Kili soon found himself in a rather compromising position, and was stumbling over apologizes for the being so lascivious.

Dis had stories of her own; none as outrageous but there was one involving a tree, and a certain archer's bum she had to rub ointment on for a week, at least! Tauriel just about nearly shorted hot cocoa out her nose, which sounded quite painful indeed. She choked back tears to covering an oncoming coughing fit, and her face flushed a different shade of red than her own hair. Dis went out to say how Kili could barely sit because his bum was in too much pain. Of course once the elleth's laughter had ceased, she seemed saddened by the lack of stories she had about Kili.

Looking across the training grounds at Itaril and Dwalin made her realize something she hadn't thought of before; had her daughter been able to comprehend the death of her ada? Had she truly been able to understand what had happened; that despite what naneth wanted in her heart, ada wasn't coming home? "Oh I don't think you give her enough credit. Children are resilient creatures. They can bounce back from things you and I wouldn't be able to," Dis said to her, in a solemn tone, because talking about her son was still a depressing subject, even if she could mention Kili without completely bursting into tears as she normally have done.

"I do not think she fully grasps what has happened," Tauriel says, and the two meet each other eye-to-eye. "Maybe she does now but as she grows, she will feel this emptiness in her heart, as she knows something significant is missing from her life. A normal elf child's mind would develop and mature much quicker than, say, a mortal, but Itaril isn't a normal elf child. I do not know how this mixed heritage will affect her. And I just- " the elleth sighed, " –I only wish I could take away the pain I know is coming, but I cannot. Oh, how I wish Kili were here. He's going to miss every milestone in her life. It just is not fair."

"No," Dis looked at her own shoes, because she dare not look Tauriel in the eyes to see the tears swimming there; she just might start crying again herself. "Of course it isn't fair but you have to understand something." When she lifted her head, she and the elleth were both breathing through their mutual pain. "Kili always had a big heart. That's one thing I truly did love about him. He cared about everything and everyone, no matter their age, size, race, or gender. That's what I remember most about him. The fact he chose to love you and not some dwarrowdam means a great deal. It means you made enough of an impact on him to matter. So when your daughter is older, and she starts asking more about her father, you tell her that. You tell her that even though Kili cannot be with her, he will always be in her heart because of such a love he bore for you and through the love you both shared, you could create something precious and pure."

In the end, both women had tears blotting their eyes and Dis had to fight back the ones crawling in her throat whereas Tauriel's slowly snaked down the sides of her face without her even realizing the flood gates had opened. She hadn't even noticed how her shoulders began to shake, how her throat started to close up, how her heart started to flip inside her chest, how her stomach began to knot up on her. She had buried her face in the palm of her hand and had to take a step away. The dwarrowdam looked saddened; she hadn't meant to make the elleth cry so.

_Precious and pure_, she heard her conscious saying, _like your promise_. Only, the reckless young dwarf prince hadn't kept the promise to his mother. Those words haunted her. They were her words yet coming from the mouth of this dwarrowdam, they struck a nerve in her heart. She couldn't shake the feeling that somehow she was to blame for Kili not being here; indirectly, to blame.

In her moment of mourning, Tauriel had not yet realized Itaril had come to her side because the little edhel had heard her naneth crying; she was very much like Kili in the fact she was in tune with other peoples' emotions. She knew when her naneth was upset. She took Tauriel by the hand, and she begged to know why her naneth was crying. The elleth started to say something but Dis interjected and suggested that her granddaughter might enjoy a treat from the kitchen. She happily took Itaril by the hand and led her away. But this left Dwalin alone with Tauriel and as battle-hardened as he was, a crying elleth wasn't something he could deal with. It was an awkward silence between them before he slipped away to clean up after his session with Itaril; the young lass was growing into her own as quite the skillful archer! There was only ever one other who could successfully manage three bullseyes in a row.

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><p><strong>S<strong>he was not accustomed to a room where could not see the stars from her window. She could not fathom how anyone would be comfortable living beneath a mountain where they could not see the starlight each night, but they were not elves; they cared not for the light of the stars as she had.

"_I always thought it was a cold light," he says to her, "Remote and far away."_

_When Tauriel looks at him, she begins to feel a small fire in her blood. "It is memory. Precious and pure," her eyes travel from his face to the floor and then back to his face, and she realizes their eyes have met, and she feels her heartbeat loud in her ears. _

Tauriel hadn't noticed the tear that fell from the corner of her eye until is splashed against her knuckles, and she was quick to brush away anymore before they fell further than she would allow. The door to the guest bed chamber opened and in walked a young dwarrowdam and clutched between two hands was a small tray. And on said tray was a great mug of iced water, a plate of meats and cheeses, and even an apple. The dwarrowdam flashed the elleth a light smile before setting the tray down on a table by the far wall where Tauriel sat.

Just before leaving, the dwarrowdam stopped at the door. "I've never seen an elf before," she admitted, and it was obvious she had seen far too few winters; her eyes were young and her face still held her youth. "You seem okay to me." She had left without Tauriel saying a word.

The years may have been kind to that young dwarrowdam, but they had not done the same to the grieving widow. Her age had shown through her eyes, her heartache through her tears. Perhaps she was missing Kili now more than ever. She thought to have relinquished her heartache once Itaril was born – she originally believed the child's birth had lessened her grief over Kili's death – but it only seemed to have made it worse; what Dis said to her today didn't help; she couldn't hold anything against the princess though; she knew not of what she had said, and certainly meant no ill will by it.

Regardless, Tauriel felt her heart heavy again and she longed to have Kili's arm wrap around her, to feel his lips press against her warm flesh, to meld herself against him as she had before.

_Kili had waited until Tauriel had come back to herself, and then he pressed a gentle kiss on top her forehead, and his hand followed the slender curvature of her breasts. She had not moved away from him as of yet, still quite content to have him nestled deep inside her; the pulses between her legs had yet to cease, and she had yet to want them to._

_She put her head to his chest, and she pressed her hand to his lips when he tried to speak; she was listening, she told him. Kili only smiled and combed his fingers through her red locks. His arms coiled around her shoulders and he held her oh so close to him. _

_As the sun peaked over the horizon of the clouds, he woke her and they made sweet love again before everyone had come out of their slumber, and then he left her there on the shores of the Long Lake with a single promise._

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><p><strong>I<strong>taril giggled as she ran from the bathtub; she would have bolted out from the room stark naked had Dis not grabbed the child and wrapped her in a towel. Dis towel-dried the girl's hair as her granddaughter continued her giggle fit; for a moment, however brief, Itaril looked the spitting imagine of Kili right after a bathing; he very much enjoyed them too, if only to cause his mother a tizzy when he'd tried to run off buck ass nude.

The dwarrowdam dressed the girl in a small frock and had her curled up in bed and then she pulled a book from the shelves for a good bedtime story, but Itaril insisted on stories about her ada. Dis seemed more than happy to oblige; how her son would have just loved this sight. The stories she thought up were simple enough. Like the one of Kili thinking it would be a grand idea to surprise her with breakfast one morning, only for him to burn the toast and singe the whiskers off his face. Or the time when he convinced his brother there was a snake in his bed – Fili _hated _snakes – and giggled himself insane when Fili wet himself with fear. Yeah, Dis hadn't been too happy that day. Got his hide tanned good Kili did.

But Itaril seemed to like the one Dis told about the time Kili put a pair of rats in Thorin's boots, and how the great dwarf howled like a dwarrowdam when one of the rats decided to bite his big toe. Itaril laughed for a long while. And then she told her grandmother about the pranks she'd play on the Elven King, and that really seemed to put a smile on Dis's face. But then Itaril would grow real quiet and the dwarrowdam would ask why her granddaughter seemed so sad.

"Because my mum is sad," the young edhel answered, solemnly. Itaril looked at the furs covering her, and she wrung her fingers through themselves before she raised her head up. "It's because she's missing my da isn't it? Is that why she was crying earlier? She doesn't think I understand... but I do." She did not ever want to see her naneth so upset by anything; she didn't know how her naneth could cry, for she always seemed so full of joy and of life.

Dis sighed heavily and pulled herself in closer to her grandbaby. "Yes, baby. I suspect your mum misses your da a great deal. But I wouldn't let yourself be bothered with that. I'm sure your mum would not want you to be sad for her." She placed a finger under Itaril's chin.

"Was he a lot like me? Da, I mean."

"Yes."

Itaril's eyes sparkled.

"I look at you and I can see him looking out through your eyes when you smile. He was very much like you. You and your da share the same spirit."

The young edhel pulled her legs closer to her chest. "I bet you miss him lots huh?"

Dis nodded. "I do. Everyday. He was my son and I love him still. I have loved him since the moment he came into this world." Then she pressed a kiss to Itaril's hair and moved up from the bed. "You should get some sleep, little one." The girl wriggled down under the covers and said her goodnights to her grandmother just as Dis puffed out a lit candle by her bedside.

The dwarrowdam slipped quietly from the room then proceeded to find Tauriel in the room set up especially for her. Her eyes widened some when she noted the elleth hadn't touched any of the food brought to her; the meat had since gone cold and the cheese would sure go rancid if not eaten. Dis pulled herself up onto a plush stool to sit by the elleth; if Tauriel had noticed her, she hadn't said anything, and from where Dis was sitting she could tell her daughter-in-law had been crying.

Instead of letting the silence hang between them, Dis decided to speak. "That daughter of yours is surely something." She also tried to smile, and even chuckle; an attempt on her part to have Tauriel do the same but the red-head was having none of it. "You should really eat something, Tauriel."

"I am not hungry."

"Are you truly? If this has anything to do with what I was saying earlier, I apologize," Tauriel was now looking at her. "I had never meant to upset you in any way."

"No. It's- It's not that. You did nothing wrong. I just… I hadn't truly realized just how much Kili's death still affected me." She studied the dwarrowdam's face, and how her dark eyes seemed sullen; if not for her own heartbreak, then maybe something Tauriel said. "Forgive me. I sit here grieving like a heartsick puppy and you have lost your son. I should not be so selfish."

Dis shook her head, taking up Tauriel's hand in her own. "Do not apologize. I have shed my tears for Kili. It is true that I miss him terribly and I sympathize with your heart; you have given yourself mind, body, and soul to another and now raise his child without him. Kili grew up without his father in his life and I know Itaril faces the same. You have lost half of your heart, Tauriel. There is nothing wrong with being selfish about it." She briefly rubbed her hand over the elleth's knuckles until she saw a smile lighting Tauriel's face; she had such a bright smile.

The two spoke in length that night and Dis had goblets of wine brought. She had not left the elleth's side until Tauriel was sleeping soundly; and even then, the dwarrowdam had just pulled up a chair in the corner and stayed by Tauriel's side throughout the night.

_Kili produced a bead of mithril make from his pocket. The light from the sun caught it in such a way that its brilliance shown, and it had taken Tauriel a few seconds to learn how to breathe again. She hadn't known its implication. _

_He braided it into her hair with such a determination that she found herself falling in love with him all over again and when asked why he would give her such a beautiful gift, all he did was smile fondly and kiss the corner of her lips, then he took up her hands and said, "When this is over, I wish to marry you, Tauriel."_

"_They will never approve."_

"_I care not for anyone's approval. I know what I want in my heart and I want you as my wife. We dwarves are not always fortunate to find ourselves a wife as dwarrowdam are so few amongst us."_

"_I am no dwarrowdam."_

"_No, you are better." He brought her hands to his lips and kissed them._

_Tauriel smiled. "I want nothing more than to be your wife, Kili. Usually marriage is a great significance in my culture. It is a lengthy process though technically, only the vows exchanged by bride and groom and the consummation of their love are required (ref. Tolkien Gateway)."_

"_Well, seeing as how we've already done one of those…" His eyebrows wiggled in a very suggestive manner that made Tauriel's cheeks pulse with heat. "Our races are not too far distant then. We have similar customs." Kili cleared his throat, then got as serious as Tauriel had ever seen him. "Tauriel of the Woodland Realm, daughter of Ehrendil and Taleadra, I take you now as my bride and vow to love you, to honor you, and to cherish your heart for all of my days."_

_Tauriel felt her heart pounding vigorously. "Kili of Erebor, son of Vili and Dis, I take you now as my husband and vow to love you, to honor you, and to cherish your heart for all of my days."_

_They kissed then as a married couple, and fresh tears trickled down Kili's cheeks. His mother was going to kill him._

* * *

><p><strong>Side Note: <strong>I honestly have no idea what the custom is for a dwarven marriage so I just said it's similar to an elven one, but I might go into more detail about that later. I think I liked working on this chapter even more than the other one. You will be seeing more of Itaril in the next coming chapter, and definitely more angst with Tauriel and Kili. Please do read and review!


	3. Into the City

_Mae govannen! It warms me to know people really like this story. To think I had originally intended for it to be a simple one-shot and now it's turned into this! Lol. _

_I also apologize for not updating sooner. I guess my parting gift from my vacation was this AWESOME cold so I've been fighting off that for the better part a few days. _

_Please enjoy this latest installment! :)_

**He Lives in You  
><strong>Ch. 3 – Bonding Time  
>written by milady oakenshield<p>

* * *

><p><strong>T<strong>auriel did not enjoy doing anything if she could not do it herself; this included, of course, getting herself dressed in the mornings. She was certainly no one of royalty by any means. She didn't do these fancy blues, or these royal purples, or these stark reds; her best color was green, as benefitting the dresses she always wore day in and day out. Her hair, on the other hand, could use some primping. When she was but a young edhel, and she would roll out of bed ready for a new day, the Prince would come and they'd spend a good hour braiding the other's hair. If it was simply of matter of throwing her hair back into a hair tie, Tauriel could do that herself. This morning, though, the Princess Dis had practically insisted on putting in some braids into the elleth's hair.

The dwarrowdam knew nothing of how any elleth or _ellon (elf-man; Sindarin)_ braided their hair but she did know a thing or two about dwarven braids; she'd braid Fili's hair quite a lot when he was young, and somehow she managed to wrestle Kili into a few of them before they left. Neither one of them had anywhere near the amount of hair Tauriel had, as the dwarrowdam was finding out. Tackling such a task was challenging. Combing out the bed-head tangles was just frustrating. Dwarrows prided themselves on their hair though in all her years, Dis could not recall a single one that had hair nearly as long as Tauriel's.

For Dis, the question of what to do with the elleth's long hair wasn't an issue. She started off with a basic 3-strand braid, fairly high on Tauriel's head. Then she pulled the base of the braid gently to the left whilst looping it around to the right. She then folded the tail end of the braid around the base, then jerked the tail outward through the loop the hair just created. Dis twisted the knot a tad counter clockwise then gave it a good tugging. The dwarrowdam fluffed out the pony tail that hug loose down Tauriel's spine then drapped a single plait over the elleth's left shoulder. Tauriel examined the braid carefully; braided into the end of it was the mithril bead Kili had given her when he wished to make her his intended. The elleth felt her eyes water, her stomach constrict in a knot, and she had to clear her throat to suppress the tears choking her.

They shared a moment where it was only silence, and Dis smiled to hide her heartache. Their moment was shortly interrupted when the door to the guest room opened. In walked Itaril hand-in-hand with Dwalin; it was definitely a sight; for anyone who hadn't known better, they'd say this was out of the warrior's character, but Dis liked to think her boys had something to do with softening up his heart. That or he just took to the little girl because she just had that ability to melt the heart of anyone, no matter how resistant.

Tauriel twisted away from the mirror as they walked in; she avoided Dwalin's gaze but for Itaril, she was smiles. "Did you sleep well, pîn êl?" She pressed a kiss to the crown of her daughter's hair.

"Yes, naneth."

"Good."

Pulling back, Itaril caught a glimpse of the braiding. "Wow! _Lle naa vanima_, naneth!" (you look beautiful; Sindarin). She reached to touch it.

"I was thinking of taking them into Dale," the Princess exclaimed as she raised her head up to catch Dwalin's eye.

The warrior nodded. "Enjoy yourself." One minute he was stood at the doorway and the next he had swept across the room to embrace his lovely princess in a sweet kiss. He stopped paying tribute to her lips when he felt a light tugging at his sleeve. "Yes?"

"You should come, Mister Dwalin. Maybe gran'mum can braid your hair too."

"Eh…"

Tauriel covered a hand to her mouth to conceal a cough. "Itaril, I am sure Mister Dwalin has important business here."

Dwalin nodded. "Quite right." Then the little edhel flashed him a sad-eyed stare that left memories of another youngling who would give him the same look when he couldn't get his way swimming through his mind, and his mouth hung open like a gaping fish.

"Itaril," the dwarrowdam called, breaking the little edhel's attention from Dwalin. "Why don't you trade places with your mother and I can plait your hair, hm?" She flashed her lover a look and then he exited from the room.

Tauriel moved away from the cushion so that Itaril could plop herself on it. The little edhel turned so that she faced the mirror and Dis took up the comb then began the task of detangling that head of unruly auburn hair.

* * *

><p><strong>D<strong>ale was naught but a city of ruin and death little more than a hundred years ago. The day the dragon came. The day lives were changed forever. Dis was just a wee dwarfling at the time, barely able to reach her mother's hips, but she remembered. She remembered the screams as men and dwarrows were slaughtered in the dragon fire. She remembered the cries of young children as their parents fell to death. But if she thought about it enough, she remembered most the way she clung so tightly to her mother's skirt. _Da will find us_, she had said whilst huddled in a corner, pressing the scared young dwarfling to her chest. But her da never did find them. Instead it was Frerin, and he found his little sister screaming and wailing over the body of their mother.

Then Frerin was gone, and da, and grandda, till all she had was Thorin. And then Vili came into her life, and her heart seemed less heavy at that point. The hefty burden on her heart lessened more the day Fili was born; her little golden lion brought her much joy and happiness. That happiness she felt for her son lasted only so long. It seemed only a matter of time before everything went to hell again. Surely Mahal had enjoyed tormenting her so. But the day her husband was taken from her was also the same day her second pregnancy began to show itself. One minute she's kissing her husband for the last time, and the next she's on her knees when nausea gets the better of her.

Dis did not look forward to raising one boy – and she was soon to find out a second – without his father, and she would had descended into complete madness had it not been for her brother. In truth, she owed everything to Thorin Oakenshield. Dealing with both boys proved to be a challenge in itself. She wouldn't have been able to do it without him. Oh how her heart ached to have them with her at this moment. She longed to have her boys in her arms again; to kiss their hair, to tell them how much she loved them, to do everything she would have once wanted. And then she thought of her granddaughter Itaril and could only wish good things for the child.

"Look, naneth! Look!"

Dis was pulled from her reverie by cries of said granddaughter as the girl pointed out a pair of kites that floated by them, waving her right about excitedly; the other held tight to her naneth's hand; she insisted Itaril hold her hand when they walked through the crowded streets. The dwarrowdam only chuckled at the girl's excitement. She heard them not as their voices called after her, and she bolted for the vendor dealing candy out to children standing round the table.

The dwarrowdam shook her head, looking up towards the sky. "Oh, Kili you rum bugger," she muttered. Twas just another article in a long laundry list of things that reminded her of her dearly departed son; he craved sweets too.

"I have always endeavored to be a good mother," Tauriel admitted, pulling Dis's attention in the direction of her, "but try as I might, I will catch her sneaking sweets from the kitchen pantry when she believes I am not looking. I discovered caramel in her hair once. As it turns out, one of the elven guards had given her a candy apple. Come to think of it, all I wanted when I was with child were apples."

"Kili loved apples. It was one of the few luxuries we could afford at the time. He'd come running in from lessons with Balin and I would slice up an apple for him, then he would tell me all about his day as he munched happily on them."

Tauriel drew a small breath. "I remember a night during his stay in the King's dungeon that he complained of being ill. His brother told me to give him green apples…"

_And they must be sliced_, she remembered him saying.

"That sounds like Fili alright." Dis smiled fondly. "Always looking after his brother like that. Kili had borrowed Thorin's comb once. Poor lad ended up breaking it!" Tauriel gave her one of those knowing looks. "Oh, Tauriel, my brother was so mad. But Kili was afraid of getting in trouble so Fili told Thorin that he'd done it. Every lick that boy got that night was for his brother."

"Did Thorin ever find out?"

"No. I asked Fili why he would have done that and he weaved this whole story, and then I'd catch the look in Kili's eyes. I don't think they ever knew that I had caught on."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Wasn't my place. I figured Kili would be feeling the guilt of letting his brother take the blame and come clean, but I don't suppose he ever did."

Tauriel shifted uncontrollably. "I wish I had gotten to know Fili more. And Thorin." Though she inwardly twitched at her last account of the fallen King Under the Mountain because their first meeting had also been their last; she'd come to the mountain as a way of talking peace between her people and his and it hadn't gone as she had hoped – leaving the mountain without resolve, and a busted lip.

"I know Fili would have liked you and I am sure my brother… would have, given some time."

The elleth smiled. "I'd sure like to imagine thus. Both seemed qui- Itaril!" The dwarrowdam's eyes shot to the table where her granddaughter startled, clutching onto the stick of a candied apple in her right hand. "You do not just take things without asking. I apologize, sir." Tauriel looked to the man standing just on the other side of the table. He was fair in face, but lanky in appearance.

"That is quite alright, miss."

Looking rather sheepish, Itaril asked, "Naneth, may I have this candied apple?"

"I am afraid I do not have any coin."

Dis stepped up next to them, producing a coin from her pocket. "Allow me." She proceeded to hand it to the vendor who swept himself into a small bow then deposited the coin in his pouch.

"Thank you, grandmum!" Itaril flashed a charming smile – that Dis would, again, curse her son for – then took a bite from the candied apple; Tauriel momentarily remembered trying to get caramel from her daughter's hair the last time Itaril had a candied apple, and she smiled in order to suppress the thought of it happening again.

"Tauriel?" The elleth dropped a look over her left shoulder, and Dis's gaze wandered as well. "I did not think to see you here in Dale." The man formally known as Bard the Dragon Slayer, now Lord Bard of Dale, stepped forward dressed in a regal blue tunic. "This is quite a surprise indeed. And it is always a pleasure to see you, your Highness." He gave his head a small bow, and Dis curtsied in return. "This is quite the unusual sight…" –the alliance between elves and dwarves was fragile at best, so seeing them, together, in Dale, was quite the shock- "…what may I ask brings you both here?"

The elleth opened her mouth to explain when Itaril walked up next to her. "Mum, can we go look at the kites? I want to see the tur- Oh, h-hello." The girl with the auburn hair and hazel eyes discovered the man staring down at her and was all too suddenly intimidated.

Bard was never one to be every be willingly caught off-guard –although there was that a time when he came home and discovered a two-year-old Tilda had gotten into the knitting- but he had not taken into consideration the shock of seeing a small edhel popping her head out from behind Tauriel's skirt, nor that edhel referring to her as mum. When last he saw of Tauriel, she did not appear to be in the family way.

He cleared his throat to hide the fact he'd been staring far too long, and that seemed entirely too improper. "Oh, hello." He flashed the girl a smile, and she giggled. Then he bent low until the pair was eye-level; which meant he was literally on his knees. "And who might you be, little miss?"

"My naneth- err, mother…" she slipped, almost forgetting for a second that not everyone might know or be able to translate Elvish. "…gave me the name Itaril, but most people who can't pronounce my name call me Tari. It's easier for them to say."

Bard nodded. "Very well, Tari. It is a beautiful name for a beautiful young lady." The young edhel giggled as her face flushed. He nodded, and she fluffed out her skirt in a small curtsy. When he stood, his knees crinkled a bit- an unfortunate side effect to his tussle with Smaug- and his eyes shifted to where Tauriel stood.

Elleth and Dale King stared each other down, and he _knew_.

* * *

><p><strong>Side Note: This story is turning into a fix-it for Tauriel to explain what happened to her after TBOTFA, lol, I love it. <strong>

**While elven children do mature mentally much faster than mortals, Itaril is a mix of both elf and dwarf which I believe changes the rules a bit; she will be able to grasp some things at a fast rate (i.e: walking and talking before her first year, being smart and crafty enough to pick the lock of a weapons cabinet, be able to use a bow and arrow so young) whilst others may take more time. I did mention in my last chapter how Itaril was putting the pieces together and concluded her ada was not "sleeping" and I use the term edhel for her because there is no word for dwelf and she was raised in Mirkwood.**

**And as I've been corrected, Dis is not "old", she is just "aged", so I've gone back to the previous chapters to revise this**

**Any other issues that have arisen, I will gladly go back to correct :)**


	4. Lord of Dale

_Mae govannen! _

_I apologize for not getting this next chapter out as soon as possible but I had been working on Kiliel Ficlets and trying to get that done. I do plan to focus more on this short story until I feel satisfied I can't go any further. I know without a doubt how I want to finish it but not everything that will go in between until I'll have it written out._

_One thing I do know is how awesome everyone has been during all of this. Again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews and support._

**He Lives in You**  
>Ch. 4 – Lord of Dale<br>_written by milady oakenshield_

_November 25, 2941_

_**A**__ hush had fallen over the ruins of Dale that night, complemented only by the well-lit fires and survivors conversing over stories, idle gossip, and other such things. The man affectionately known by many as Bard the Dragon Slayer kissed his daughters as they lay sleeping. He passed by his son Bain and the pair spoke of sword training as soon as they were able; Bain had never picked up a weapon in his lifetime, and Bard prayed that he'd never have to, but when his son killed those orcs on instinct to protect Sigrid and Tilda, a bout of pride warmed the bowman's heart. But Bard also had reason to worry. Bain had never killed before. Never struck another out of anger. What would this do to him mentally? Would he ever truly recover from drawing blood? Be it orc, elf, or another, it was still a life none the less – something he wouldn't soon forget._

_He passed through the cobbled streets stained with the blood of their dead. It still brought pain to his heart to think about the lives lost and how it could have been avoided; not entirely but for the most part, the numbers in death might have been fewer. He stopped at certain points to check on how his people faired. It honestly put a sickening dread in his belly to think of them as his people. But these tents were not his intended destination. Bard continued on until he spotted a lowly Lake-town resident cooking up what meager food he could manage. It wasn't a meal fit for anyone, but it was at least something to fill their bellies._

_Bard could hear his own stomach rumbling at the idea of food; he hadn't eaten in days. Though the elves have treated them with some provisions, he demanded all of it go to others in more need than he. He also made sure his children were fed first. But like him, there was still one who had not seen an ounce of food. Though this reason was different than his own. _She's refusing to eat anything, da. I've tried offering her a share of what I've been given, but she does not look at it._ Bard knows not why the elleth has refused to fill her belly and he believes his daughters know better but if they do then they say naught. _

_Knowing the elleth's tent is not far, Bard stops. "Ah, Master Bard," says the old man, his wrinkled eyes full of life and mirth despite the destruction to their home. And his smile, his smile is what hides the sorrow he holds in his heart. "Care for a spot of food? 'fraid it's not much but it'll do ya a bit of good I tell you."_

"_Not for me thank you," Bard replies with an equally kind smile, then he says, "But I would very much like to take some to that pretty little red-head who came to us the other day. You know of whom I speak?" He knew not of who she was or what troubles she has been through; he only knows of what his daughters tell him. It had only been a day since she was brought to them and he has not made any time to see to her._

_The man lifted a brow, nodding. "That elf lasse? Of course!" And fill a bowl he did, then he passed it off to Bard. He'd hate for the woman to go hungry._

_The bowman proceeded the way he was going. He'd nod this way and that to anyone still awake and who bothered to give him a passing smile. He would gladly stop to pay them more mind had his thoughts not been directed elsewhere. The light still flickered from within. It created this kind of luminosity drawing on the tent much like the painting on a canvas. He never actually considered the beauty of it before. Its glow just seemed so warm. After days of bloodshed, it was soothing._

_She was in the same position she'd been in for hours; sitting up against her cot, legs curled into her chest, head resting forwards on her knees. That can't be very comfortable, he thought. Bard set the bowl on a small wood-like inn table and dropped low in front of her. He could tell by her evened breathing she was sleeping. Why she hadn't curled up under the furs and linens was beyond him. If he had any other choice in the matter, he would not wake her, but he worried for this woman; someone he'd never met personally, and yet he was worried for her._

_Throwing caution to the wind, he decided to wake her. He did not expect her to react so violently. The bowman shirked back, raising his hands defensively, as Tauriel unsheathed a dagger from her tunic. She looked around her as if on high alert. She was prepped and ready to strike. As her eyes flickered to the man knelt in front of her, she tightened her grip on her blade. She had known the girls, and Bain, but had not met their father despite both of them being among the survivors on the shore of that lake._

_Tauriel was breathing heavily, which caused great pain to her damaged ribcage. Though she did well to school her discomfort, she could not hide that which wheezed from her parted lips. Bard tempted his fate and reached for the poised weapon. The elleth flinched. But he was able to take the dagger from her and place it aside. She hadn't moved. At any other time, this bowman would have found his neck sliced from ear to ear, but Tauriel had neither the physical strength nor the will to do so._

_Bard noted how her body trembled, and he briefly wondered the cause. Taking care, he lifted her from the grungy floor. She did not protest. Once on her feet, her head lolled into the crook of his shoulder. A deep frown creased the bowman's features. He had never known elves to ever become so weak. Recalling a name his eldest had given him, Bard called to her, but the only response from her lips was a soft groaning of a name he'd not heard in some time. He dragged his hand down the center of his face and then found himself looking towards the direction of the mountain; he knew not why but something had twisted in his gut._

Bard opened his door at the sound of someone rapping against it, but he hadn't expecting to be staring down into the faces of four dwarrows. He had thought they'd gone with the others.

"No," he simply said to them, "I'm done with dwarves. Go away." He tried to pull the door shut but one of the dwarrows had thrown their hand against it to keep it open.

"Please," the floppy hat one pleaded, "no one will help us. Kili's sick- " he glanced behind him to the young archer being supported by his brother, and Bard's eyes had followed; the young dwarrow quite literally looked like he was dying. His eyes were rimmed black, his face had taken on a greying hue, and his breathing was ragged, and then the floppy hat one stole the bowman's gaze again. " –he's very sick."

_Kili._

_Kili._

_Now he understood. That dwarf, the one he gave shelter to – _he_ was the one whose name passed through Tauriel's lips. Bard glanced to a small chair in the corner where his youngest child, Tilda, had curled up and now slept; he hadn't even noticed her there before. He crept to her side and laid a duvet over her to keep her warm, and then he left to saddle himself a horse._

**T**he house she remembered was a lot different than this; intricate woven rugs covered the floors, tapestries draped on the walls, and above the fire place hung a pair of swords crossing over one another. She had not seen the rest of the house but she imagined it was as glorious as what she'd already laid eyes on. Bard had invited them in for tea and sugar cookies; sugar was a luxury he'd only been able to afford in the recent years; never would he have considered it in Lake-town, not when times were hard, food was often scarce, and even the basics like fish wasn't always a guarantee. Tauriel was used to all of times. In years before, before she matured, before she realized what was beyond the borders of Mirkwood, before she realized not everyone was as fortunate to be raised in the manner she was, she thought less of those who were –as Thranduil might have put it- beneath her. Times had changed; she had changed. She was grateful for everything now, and she learned to show appreciation for others.

When the kettle whistle blew, and as Bard excused himself to the stove, Tauriel happily reached for a sugar cookie laid out on the plate in front of them whilst Dis was still working on hers. Her _pîn êl _pulled herself onto her grandmum's lap and started reaching for a sugar cookie before she froze at her naneth's voice, and then she stopped and asked for permission to have a cookie; sometimes Itaril could forget her manners, and Tauriel would just have to remind her.

When Bard emerged from the kitchen, the elleth jumped up from the table to help him with the tray, but he waved her off and just set it down in front of them. "Certain things may have changed, but not everything," he explained whilst handing one mug to Tauriel and another to Dis, "I still prefer to do the most basics for myself and I have instilled in my children to do the same. It is easy to forget when you want for naught."

"I have always done the same with my boys," Dis concurred as she accepted the mug, and as their host poured an amble amount of tea until she signaled enough. "I was only a wee dwarfling when the mountain was attacked. I went from a princess with everything done for her, and everything she could ever want, to being on the opposite side of the coin. I know my father liked it not, and my grandfather even more so, but I have my brothers to thank for raising me to be the dwarrowdam I am. Thorin especially taught me to appreciate what I'd been given, and I in turn instilled that in Fili and Kili."

"You are quite the wise woman, Lady Dis."

The dwarrowdam smiled, sadly. "To be quite honest, I sometimes miss my small and modest home in Ered Luin. I was raised there, I spent a good majority of my life there, I birthed my boys there – to me, that place will always be home. It's taken me some time for me to accept that I live in Erebor now and while I have servants to do everything for me, I still find myself do the most basic of tasks for myself. My brother told me once that home is where your heart is; well, mine is still wandering the Blue Mountains."

The cookie was halfway to her mouth when Itaril looked up at her grandmum. "Then why do you not live there, gran'mum?"

"Because, my sweet girl," Dis began, "as much as I feel a pull towards it, _this_ is my home now. And… your da and uncle are buried here. I do not think I could live so far from them. They are still my boys, even in death." Itaril dropped a frown, and the dwarrowdam cuddled the young edhel close to her, pressing a kiss to her crown.

_**I**__t wasn't until the break of dawn when Bard reached Erebor's gates. The bleak land outside the stronghold was bare; truthfully, he was surprised, because he half expected the dwarrows to be camped here but he figured they'd have taken shelter within the mountain, save for those now dead on the cold ground. The bowman dismounted his horse and tread carefully across the man-made bridge created by pieces of broken stone and rock. This was dangerous territory he was walking. Sure Men, and Elves, and Dwarrows alike had come together to fight a common enemy, but Bard was unsure how they'd receive him now._

_As he'd come to find out, they hardly noticed. Most of the floor had been littered with debris. Many dwarrows had taken up camp here as well. They had wounded that needed tending to. Seeing friends and brothers, fathers and sons, attending their own had started to pull at Bard's heart. He would see them all well looked after if he could. As he started pressing forward into the mountain, several heads began to look up. He suddenly felt his heart beat faster and faster. And he was sure they could hear it with how loud it thundered in his own ears._

_He paid them no mind at all until a gruff tattooed dwarf appeared and the bowman stopped short in his trek. The pair of them stared each other down and neither had made a sound or each and inch towards the other. The others, they didn't know what to do. Despite their height, Bard suddenly felt very small indeed. But after a long stretch of silence, it was Dwalin who made the first move. Walking through rows of other dwarrows, he closed some distance between himself and the bowman, who stood his ground despite that aching and knawing in his chest._

_The dwarrow who barely reached his chest glowered at the bowman. "What brings you into these halls? Seeking settlement already are you? Can't wait until we bury are dead huh?" He brought himself up taller than he was, or made it seem like he was._

_Bard cleared his throat to hide a small tremble. "I did not come here for riches, Master Dwarf. I do realize many of your kin had fallen and you wish to bury them, as have my own. What I seek is something of a more- " He gave pause. How does he broach the subject? He took a look around him at the dwarrows sharing equal gazes between himself and Dwalin. " -personal level that is not for myself, you see."_

_Dwalin lifted his brows, and his eyes studied the man standing in front of him. He'd be sent on an errand of a personal matter? This made little sense to him. "And what kind of personal matter would bring you to the gates of our newly reclaimed home, Master Bard?" Yes, he remembered the bowman's name, since their burglar seemed very keen on informing them of thus._

"_I request for an audience with the dwarf Kili of Durin's Folk."_

_There was this moment of utter silence. So silent, in fact, that Bard could feel his heart drop to the floor and shatter into millions of pieces. And then the murmuring started. Dwalin's face played a marriage of expressions all at once; surprise, anger, confusion – and then of course his bearded face twisted into rage. Bard took a step back. He was not armed. If this dwarrow sought to strike at him, he'd be dead._

_But the heavily tattooed warrior did not strike the bowman. Instead, he invited him further in and then took him away from the chaos. Stone hallways were covered with many dwarrows, and each one of them picked up their heads and watched as Dwalin and Bard walked past. The warrior brought him to a slightly quieter part of the mountain, and they stopped short outside a closed door. There was some hesitation in Dwalin just before the warrior pushed it open. The air felt stale and old, as it was meant to. These halls have not been used for over a century. But it was not the smell that he was drawn to._

_In the center of the room on a large table lay three bodies, and these three bodies were covered with thin black sheets. Bard swallowed a lump in his throat as he took a step inside. The dwarrow warrior followed until they came to stand at the first body on the table. Dwalin could barely contain a trembling in his hands as he peeled away the portion of the sheet that covered the face. Bard's heart dropped into his stomach. This is not the kind of audience he had been expecting and certainly not the kind of news he'd hope to deliver to the elleth who called for her love at night._

**The funny part is, I had this chapter planned out since I started this story, lol, I just had to make some adjustments here and there. This whole thing may be focused on Tauriel, Itaril, and Dis but I do want to bring other people in as well, as you can see with Dwalin and now Bard (and you'll definitely be seeing Tilda and quite possibly Sigrid in the next chapter). I want to bring Dain in as well sometime, and possibly Legolas later on. And I'm thinking of how I could work in flashbacks of Tauriel returning to Mirkwood, finding out she's pregnant, giving birth, finally accepting her daughter (which I have an idea for that involves Dis); I have ideas, lol.**


	5. Unraveled

_Mae govannen! _

_I continue to thoroughly appreciate all those lovely reviews everyone's been sending me. Each and every one of them mean a lot. _

_LouphiaTheHobbit- You're welcome? Lol. I never purposely intend to make people cry; if I write something and that happens, then it happens. But I'm glad that you picked this chapter as your favorite_

_Noxy the Proxy- I assume you're referring to Itaril? Because he already knows about Tauriel though I will go into just how much he knows and what he doesn't_

_LadyBardock- Hehe, I do try_

_You will be seeing more of Bard and his children (at least Tilda, maybe Sigrid, but no plans for Bain) in this chapter, and coming chapters, as he'll prove to be a part of knowing everything going on with Tauriel._

**He Lives in You  
><strong>Ch. 5 – Unraveled  
><em>written by milady oakenshield<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>S<strong>__leep was an elusive creature on this night; whilst it came easy for some, others trembled in the aftermath of Battle – despite it being days before – and none were as a restless as Bard, slayer of the dragon Smaug, hero and protect of Dale; for he felt like none of these. When he did lay his head down, and he did manage to catch a short wink of rest, his mind swelled with visions of a dead dwarf prince, and his elleth who cried his name at night, maybe not knowing her prince would not be returning to her; her cries said thus, for they said he had promised to return. He _promised_! And then Bard would be wide awake again, and looking at the interior of the beige tent, and then he ended up sitting up and swinging his legs over to one side and softly burying his face in his palms._

_When the loneliness of the evening and the hauntings inside his brain became too much, Bard slipped into his tattered boots and proceeded out from his tent. When he found Tauriel, she was not as she was before – propped against her cot, or maybe cuddled under blankets to keep her warm; and she may have been plagued with sleeplessness as he – but she stood facing away from him; her arms wrapped taunt round herself as gaze lazily outside, at the stars above her, and she made no sound, and Bard could not see the unshed tears that glistened her eyes._

_He considered returning to his tent, allowing the elleth to grieve for her lost prince in private, and sought to turn away, until she called to him, without looking over her shoulder. "I thought that perhaps you might like to be alone," he said to her, his voice low, and he wondered if maybe she hadn't heard him._

"_I know that you have come to check in on me," she out-right admitted, and Bard may have been flustered but he did not show it. As the elleth turned her head, she caught sight of the way the moon glimmered from behind the Dragon Slayer, and she fashioned him an upturned smile. "While I appreciate your attentiveness, it isn't necessary. I am fine." A lie; twas a lie to cover up the terrible ache in her heart; Tauriel was far from a mere fine._

_Bard sighed; he looked at his hands first, and then her, and it was then that he could see the moistness of her eyes. Fine? Far from it. "Are you? Are you truly?" And for that second when he asked her, he could see her flinch, just a little, and she parted her lips to respond, but she hesitated and ended up saying nothing at it; only just wither her sight to the floor. "I know of whom you call to at night, and I fled to the mountain hoping that I might bring you good news. You will forgive me if the news I brought is not something to ease your heart- "_

"_That would have been for naught," she said in a solemn voice that interrupted his thoughts. "There is no comfort you could have brought me, dragon slayer, for I saw him fall." But he wasn't quite dead when Tauriel crawled back to him; but the elleth hadn't told Bard she could still feel Kili's heart beating beneath her hand, and didn't tell him when she felt it stop._

_And when she picked her head up, and they were eye-to-eye, he could see her heart break all over again. When he said nothing to her, Tauriel glided past him and then dropped weightlessly onto her cot. She stared ahead at nothing, until her tears threatened to fall, and then she covered her face, but her shoulders sagged and then they trembled. She remembered the agony. She remembered the sorrow. Most conspicuously, she remembered why; for she hadn't felt either for an age, not since her parents slaughtered by Moria orcs. Not since Thranduil had pulled her back from the brink of fading over the guilt burrowed in her heart. Not since it was Legolas who showed her kindness when there was none._

_There was a pain like no other. Not, unlike, when she was a wee elfling, and the world somehow seemed less big. Now there was naught but a gaping hole in her chest. It was the day her heart stopped beating. The day when her world skidded to a halt. The day everything she thought she knew was violently ripped from her soul, and the only thing she could do was watch on, helplessly. Her heart had never felt so tight in her chest. She had forgotten what it was to breathe. And then she took a tumble over the ledge with the orc who'd taken her heart and her soul from her without mercy, without pity._

_She knelt over his body – _body_; the word just seemed so…absolute – and ceaseless tears spilled down the sides of her face in a way she thought they might not every stop. She was like that for what felt like ages, not blinking an eye though she felt his presence. The elf prince. She knew of his devotion and care towards her, and she showered him with affection, but it is the way a sister would care for her brother; Legolas's heart would suffer for it, for her own was but a mess of tangles in her chest._

_Before Tauriel had known, her hands were wet with her tears, and Bard, well, he wasn't sure what he should do._

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><p><strong>T<strong>auriel pushed the plate of sugar cookies further from Itaril's reach until the young edhel groaned about wanting more, and her naneth had to remind her that she had already had enough sweets for one day; Itaril frowned, but both Dis and Bard had smiled a little. A candied apple and six sugar cookies? Surely she'd not be able to get her daughter to sleep until the wee hours of morning now, and that might seem great fun for Itaril alright.

Dis laughs because she recalls a time when Thorin took her boys to a great fair that had come through the mountain, and he saw to it that both Fili and Kili were to choose what they wanted; well, what Kili wanted included some kind of fried desert with white sugary powder sprinkled in the bucket loads over it. He came home that night loaded with energy and his entire front simply covered in the white sugary powder.

So as the little edhel would not be tempted to disobey her mother, Bard moved the plate of sugar cookies to his kitchen, and returned with a tea glass for himself. "My youngest was quite disappointed at not receiving your last letter," he mused, and it almost sounded like a soft scolding, but there was no perniciousness in his voice.

Tauriel looked shamefaced. "You must extend my apologies, Bard." It felt strange saying his name with such familiarity but she'd learn long ago, when they parted in friendship, and he warmed to her in such a fragile time, that such familiarities between them – not calling her "_Lady Tauriel_" and her not referring to him as "_Lord Bard_" – was agreed upon. "I had been… indisposed." The elleth swallowed that ever smell lump in her throat before sipping her tea.

The letter Bard spoke of was supposed to go out ages ago; something came up; something like… like- there's a painful squeeze in her heart when she thinks about it. Tauriel had not come to herself for many years. Every year, on November 23rd, there will always be that same twinge in her heart when she is reminded how she lost Kili on that day, and she'll always remember it being cold as ice, and how she felt the cold brushing her skin when he died. And Tauriel knew she'd been dying a little bit each day since.

She was always well aware of how her King and Lord Bard communicated via letters; they were allies, yes, but she believed them to be friends, too. That battle, it- well, it changed people. No one would forget how, at the darkest of hours, when it seemed like a fight between dwarves, elves, and men were to break out, that they'd come together in service of the other; they entered into the battle as bitter enemies, but bled together to fight an even bigger one.

She'd only just borne her daughter, and she was still quite sore from her labor, when Thranduil came calling one afternoon with a letter addressed to her; the elleth was flabbergasted, admittedly; the letter in question had not been written by the Lord of Dale himself, but by his youngest child. As unexpected as they were, they were welcomed. Communicating with young Tilda seemed to distract the mind a bit; and sometimes after each one, Tauriel would finish it off with a bit of Sindarin; she'd translate it, of course.

Her thoughts of letters must have distracted the elleth from the noise at the front door, and she had not known who'd come until Bard greeted the girl standing in the doorway, and then Tauriel turned round to see who it was. "Tauriel!" The girl squealed; she bounced across the floor and flung her arms round the elleth; she (Tauriel) was quite astounded the girl who once barely surpassed the height of her waist now came to eye level with her chest. "_Nae saian luume' (It has been too long; Sindarin)_."

Tauriel's smile widened. "_Cormamin lindua ele lee (My heart sings to see thee; Sindarin)_, Tilda." She was impressed at the skill this girl had in commanding the language of the Eldar; not too many outside their own race have been as lucky, or even knew a few words here and there to speak; "Your Sindarin is getting much better."

"Were you well behaved at Hilde's?" He spoke of the young girl, about Tilda's age, whom his daughter had grown close to over the years; he had gotten close to the girl's mother since their father died of illness last year; Bard and his children have been helping them out quite a bit as of late.

Tilda gave a short nod towards him. "Of course father. Lady Dis," she gave a small curtsy to the dwarven princess; "it is a pleasure, as always." Then; "I do so love the dress you made for me. Thank you."

"Good," the princess bobbed her head; "I am pleased you like it," She had no daughters, and so she spoiled Tilda when she could; Bard and his children have become something of a pair at Erebor and Dis had taken quickly to the children. They felt as though they owed her a debt in repayment for what her sons did for them at Lake-town all those years ago; and Tilda, especially, because she liked Kili most of all.

Itaril was quiet long enough, and she was not the type to stay silent for too long; not if she could help it any; "Do you like games?" The youngest Bardling nodded. Itaril smiled. Her list of play companions was thin; she didn't have many children to play with in Mirkwood; no siblings either.

"Tilda, why not take our guest to play?" His daughter nodded, then motioned for Itaril to follow. After they had gone, Bard seated himself. He was smiles when they left, but that smile faded. "You must allow of me to apologize, my Lady Tauriel and Princess Dis, but I must beg of your forgiveness." The elleth could feel the dwarf princess stiffening next to her; the Lord of Dale had not addressed Tauriel in such a manner for a long time that him do so now was suddenly making her realize how dangerously hard her blood was pumping in her ear.

"Whatever for, Lord Bard?"

* * *

><p><strong>Dun, dun, dun! Lol. I leave this on a cliffhanger because I wanted to draw some tension. All will be explained in the next chapter. That I can promise you. I thought the idea of Tilda learning Sindarin through letters with Tauriel would be a cute idea to draw them closer together; Tilda being fond of the elleth would make sense after Tauriel risked her own life to keep her (Tilda) and the other safe; plus, it's adorable.<strong>

**Dain will come into play in the next chapter. So, until then, please enjoy this latest installment and as always…. REVIEW! Think of it like a game of Strip the Durins; the more reviews I get, the more clothes come off *wink***


	6. Confessions

_Mae Govannen! Elen sila lumen omentilmo (a star shall shine on the hour of our meeting). Okay, so I felt like trying out a little more Sindarin, lol. When Lord of the Rings first came out, I wanted so badly to learn how to speak Elvish but much like Spanish, I failed. Hard. _

_You may have noticed at the end of the last chapter that Bard seems to know something, and he needs Tauriel's and Dis's forgiveness for it. What could it be? Well, I can tell you that you will find out in this chapter. And as I promised, this chapter will include Dain and we will find out just how much he does know regarding Tauriel; That being said- well, I never intended for this to be a long story anyway and I have other projects on the brain. _

_Everyone has been so kind in their reviews. Thank you so much and to show just how much I appreciate it… *Dean strips out his shirt*_

**He Lives in You  
><strong>Ch. 6 – Confessions  
>written by milady oakenshield<p>

* * *

><p>"<em>An offended heart is the breeding ground of deception." –John Bevere<em>

_**T**__he threesome met in a selected location; quite the pair it was – the three kings: Thranduil of the Woodland Realm, Bard of Dale, and Dain of The Lonely Mountain. And unusual it was that the Elf King would come calling for them at the same time; the Lord of Dale was under the impression they were meeting to discuss trades between their realms; the King of Erebor, as reluctant as he was, traveled on Thranduil's beckoning of peace talks between them. And after such a slaughter of both their peoples, the dwarf king didn't seem as disinclined as he first appeared. _

_No one knew of this meeting; it should have been their first clue. The letters said to come alone, to tell no one, save only one to trust. Bard only told one other – his son; both his daughters remained unawares. Dain sought counsel from Dwalin and Balin, sons of Fundin; they were told not to divulge any information as to their King's whereabouts. _

_Dain met up with Bard in Dale, and the pair traveled out together. Their letters said to come to a small cabin on the outskirts of Mirkwood. Upon their arrival, the Elf King graced them each with a short bob of his head then motioned for them to follow him inside. The outside of the cabin was nothing fancy and the interior was very bleak and dark. Thranduil lit up some candles, and the small flames illumed what appeared as a small kitchenette in the corner, a decent size man-made table in the center of the room, and an unmade folding bed in the far back._

_As Thranduil poured them each tea, and thanked them for coming, twas Dain who looked up and asked, "We're not 'ere ta talk 'bout peace agreements are we?" The King Under the Mountain questioned with brows narrowed in scrutiny. _

"_I must apologize, my Lords," Thranduil began, and gave a short wave of the pitcher in their general direction before pouring himself some tea; "It is not under false pretenses that I would have wished you here, but it is under great importance that I do." He replaced the pitcher on the wooden counter then stood on one side of the table, opposite the two other Lords._

"_Your letter did seem rather urgent," Bard stated, matter-of-factly, but he, too, was curious as to what would prompt the Elf King to summon them if not for what his letter wanted._

"_You are correct in your assumption that I did not bring you here for what you think," he said in Dain's direction; "nor trade between realms," this is directed at Bard; "but a serious concern: the former Captain of my Guard has fallen with child." _

_Dain and Bard shared a look, but it was Dain who said, "I fail ta see why t'is is any o' our concern, Elf King. I do not want ta be bothered wit' any o' yer personal issues! –" And Thranduil would not have said anything had the child been his, but it wasn't; the dwarf king might later recall how he nearly fell from his chair at such a revelation. "If all ye did was call me 'ere fer t'is then it was just a waste o' time and I have better things ta do. If yer'll excuse me…" Dain pushed his chair back and moved for the door; but what revelation fell from Thranduil's lips stopped the King Under the Mountain where he stood._

_And then Thranduil rubbed that area of his nose between his eyes. "The child she carries is of dwarven blood." Bard's mouth hung open; Dain spun round on his heels. The three kings met eye-to-eye. _

"_Lies!" The dwarf king cried. "No dwarf would defile 'emselves by layin' wit' an elf! T'is is one o' yer tricks, elf king, and I will not hear it."_

"_It is no trick, Lord Dain. I assure you." Thranduil drew a short breath; he, too, at one point, would have dismissed the notion, had it not been for his own elven healers who confirmed this. "She has been examined by one of my own healers who confirm she is approximately eight week along; this puts time of conception not long before- "_

_Bard interrupts; "The Battle." Thranduil looks at him and nods._

_The dwarf king shifts his gaze between Thranduil and Bard, and it begins to dawn on to him they know something he does not; this notion makes him unease. "I dare ta ask but—who is t'is dwarf apparently? Give me 'is name so that I might decide whether ta see 'im banished." The Dale King was silent; he and Thranduil shared a single look; "Do ya know somet'in' I don't?" and their silence only confirmed what Dain was thinking, and the dwarf king's blood was beginning to boil over. "Ya do don'cha? I will have ya tell me!" He knew this dwarf could not be one of his own from the Iron Hills; he'd have them skinned._

_Thranduil parted his lips; he exhaled harshly. "I believe you know him as Kili, son of Durin, and Prince of Erebor." He heard Dain's sharp intake of breath and he must admit that he, too, found the idea of a dwarf – a __**prince**__, none-the-less – begetting a child off an elleth to be quite aberrant; and he once dismissed the very idea that their love could ever be real. _

_Dain pinched the bridge of his nose. And then what started as overwhelming shock slowly turned into lenient chortling; the King leant his hands forward on the table; "Ya woulda been better off not tellin' me. Thorin be rollin' in his grave." Then, when he stopped laughing; "Why __**are**__ ya tellin' me?"_

_Bard is the one who said, "Because she carries an heir of Erebor." _

_Dain scoffed; "My cousin's nephew may have sired a child off one o' yer elves but my people will ne'er accept a half-elven bastard on tha throne."_

"_I know this," Thranduil cut in; "And if this child is a girl, we can use her to our advantage."_

"_What do you propose?"_

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><p><strong>I apologize for making this one so incredibly short; I had literally nothing else to put down and I was running out of ideas for the rest of this chapter. But, don't worry, the next one will be longer. I promise. Maybe if I think of more to add then I'll go back in and do so<strong>


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